


RE5: Eros-Hazard

by CathexisArcana



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: Action & Romance, Eventual Romance, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Interracial Relationship, Muscles, Partnership, Penises, Pubic Hair, Sex, Shooting Guns, Vaginal Sex, Vulnerability, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 09:05:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13096857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CathexisArcana/pseuds/CathexisArcana
Summary: Wounded in combat with Las Plagas infected natives, Chris is helped by Sheva to recover, and she decides they need to do something worthwhile in case they don't make it out alive.





	RE5: Eros-Hazard

Sheva and Chris walked cautiously through the narrow aisle of marsh reeds, guns at the ready as they picked their way through the muddy terrain until the thatched huts came into view. 

 

There were four of the sparse abodes, suspended on thick stilts ten feet above the ground and joined by wood and rope bridges. Chickens pecked around in their little fenced enclosures and mosquitoes and other insects buzzed and droned around them and at a distance. Otherwise, the humid air was still and quiet. 

 

“What are the odds more hostiles are hanging out in there?” Chris asked in a quiet, bitter tone. 

 

Sheva’s fine brows knitted together. “Too damn high, unfortunately.”

 

“Only one emblem left to find,” he told her in a consoling manner, patting his utility belt. “C'mon, let’s do this.”

 

She nodded, taking a breath and reclasping her Beretta.

 

Chris resolutely headed forward, his black tactical shotgun held up by his muscle-knotted arms, scanning for hostiles a keen focus. Likewise, Sheva’s pistol seemed to sniff out the very air like a hunting animal, eager for prey. 

 

The expected occured. Three of the tribal  _ majini _ , those plagas-infected wretches who were once human, appeared on the bridges, with their raw eyes bulging and spears and bows being made ready to attack. 

 

Chris and Sheva did not wait for the projecticles to be loosed before they sent their own ahead, both 12 gauge shot and 9mm rounds splashing into infected flesh, delivering mercy to those too mad to realize they had already died a long time ago. 

 

Two majini fell into the marshy brown water below with large splashes, but the third had become tangled in the bridge rope and lay twitching in a heap on the planks, leaving that section of bridge corkscrewed and unstable. 

 

They continued to scout the area, but increasingly they began to feel the area was clear. 

 

“That’s it,” Chris said, almost questioning himself. 

 

As Sheva checked her clip, a  _ majini  _ who had been standing in the shadows of the hut farthest from them let an arrow fly from the window. She managed to put a round in his forehead before he could nock another, but the first ricocheted off a nearby clay water basin and hit Chris on the inside of the thigh. 

 

“Tricky bastard!” he grunted, giving his leg a cursory inspection. 

 

“Chris!” Sheva ran over to him, but instead of letting herself become distracted fully she continued to look around for other enemies. 

 

Chris laughed bitterly. “I’m afraid to say it’s clear again.”

 

“You would be right this time,” Sheva replied, holstering her pistol and kneeling to check his wound. “The arrow head is halfway in, and the lack of bleeding is a good sign, but we need to lay you down so I can fix this.”

 

“Just yank it out.”

 

Sheva looked up at him in a maternal fashion. “You know better, Chris.”

 

He relented with another grunt and she led him, limping, to a deck-like area connected to the hut that was in open light and looked relatively clean of any infectious material like animal remains or feces. 

 

She pulled out her knife, which she had yet to use on any enemies, and started to cut the material of his pants, but he grabbed her wrist. 

 

“What are you doing?”

 

Sheva shot him a look. “Normal procedure, Chris.”

 

“Well, unless you have a hospital gown in your pack, I think I need to keep my pants intact for now.” 

 

“Not a bad point,” Sheva conceded. “So let’s have them off the normal way, then.”

 

Chris hesitantly unhooked his belt and unbuttoned his pants. “I, uh, go commando. Fair warning.”

 

Sheva rolled her eyes. “Listen, partner, I grew up in a remote tribal village and I’ve seen plenty of unclad cadavers in medical training. You don’t have anything I haven’t seen before. Besides, you are hurt and exhausted. The last thing I am going to do is have shallow thoughts about your privacy, so quit wasting time.”

 

He shook his head in resignation as he pulled his pants down, awkwardly pushing them to the top of his boots. His penis was tumescent from the heat and sweat, and his pubic hair was still trimmed short from his leisure time in Johannesburg one ancient week earlier.

 

Sheva seemed a little distracted at first, but maintained a physician’s implacability as she laid out her medical pouch and put on a latex glove. Attempting to inspect the arrow’s insertion point, her hand brushed the swollen head of his manhood, and when she realized it was going to be in the way, she took hold of his shaft and pushed it up. 

 

“Hold this, please,” she said, with just a touch of amusement as his bemused reaction. 

 

The charged moment ended rather quickly when Sheva stingingly swabbed the wound with alcohol and began prying around it with a forcep, tugging here and pushing there. “Won’t have to push it through, thank God,” she mumbled, half to herself. “The arrowhead is obsidian, and not barbed. It’s also mostly horizontal beneath the skin, which means it has likely not punctured muscle.”

 

“Great,” Chris seethed, still holding his member, which had become less impressive in appearance as the pain took its toll on his nerves. He jumped abruptly as the arrow and partial shaft was withdrawn in one quick, smooth motion. Afterward, Sheva placed a sprig of green herb on a bandage and pressed it against his wound,  then wrapped medical tape around his trunk-like thigh. 

 

“All done,” she said. “But let’s wait a few minutes before covering it again. I want to make sure it isn’t going to bleed freely.”

 

“I feel like a creep sitting in front of you like this,” Chris said with mild chuckle. 

 

Sheva did not look away, but smiled at his remark. “Well, you do cut a striking figure under most circumstances,” she said. “I suppose I should thank Roberts for assigning me to you.”

 

“Well, you aren’t so bad yourself.”

 

“You don’t have to cover up, partner, ” Sheva said, then, boldly but with an undercurrent of nervousness. “I liked what I saw.”

 

Chris seemed to consider the whole situation for a split second, but he let his penis fall lightly back into place. Under the gloaming sun, with a mercifully cool breeze stirring the tall grasses, and with the lovely and capable Sheva in front of him, he was struck by the potential for beauty even in the most dire circumstances. 

 

Sheva finished putting up her things, then regarded him with those hazel-brown eyes that seemed vulnerable and defiant at once. “We aren’t free of the danger yet, Chris, and honestly I’m not sure what will happen in the coming hours. But listen, I want to know I’ve had one last gratifying experience if the worst is to happen. So...I hope you won’t think me untoward when I suggest that we should have sex right now, before we continue the mission.”

 

Chris laughed at first, as though she were joking, but when he realized she was serious, he nodded slowly. “I can’t say it’s the worst thing I’ve heard to today...but I’m afraid I won’t be able to match my usual standards with this leg.”

 

Sheva grinned as she realized he was agreeing. “You can just lay on your back. I’ll do most of the work now, and you can owe me the full Chris Redfield experience when we get out of this mess. Deal?”

 

“It’s a deal.”

 

Chris lay back on his elbows as Sheva pulled off her boots, then her pants and underwear. The black hair between her legs was curly and thick, but trimmed in a neat triangle. She sat next to him on her side and began caressing his steely legs, around his waist and abs, tracing the skin with her fingertips. 

 

“Next time, let’s skip all the zombie shit and go straight to this,” Chris mumbled, clearly enjoying the contact. 

 

Sheva laughed, then slid her hand down his pubic area and across his penis, taking hold of it and pumping it gently, feeling it elongate and harden to a size that was in respectable ratio to the considerable bulk of his muscled body. She stroked him absently for a moment, enjoying the sleepy expression on his face as he lay with his eyes closed against the hazy brightness from the cloudy sky. 

 

Feeling herself wet with arousal, Sheva deftly swung her shapely leg over his hip and sat astride him, with his penis up and rubbing her mons as she still held it firmly. Now, she reared up and guided it between her legs, enjoying the thrilling discomfort as its size filled her as she eased herself onto it fully, then began rocking gently, careful of his wound but also of her long absence from this act. 

 

Chris put his strong hands on her athletic waist as she pushed her sex onto his in even motions, leaning on his chest and moaning softly, but with ever an ear out for the familiar sounds of danger. With respect to their circumstances, Sheva resisted the urge to prolong their lovemaking, so three or four blissful minutes later, she came as soon as the feeling arrived, shuddering and stifling a whimper as she felt Chris tense, and his hot pleasure poured inside of her, mixing with the suffusion of warmth that still lingered there. 

 

She wanted to lay on top of him, to kiss and talk, and she reluctantly pulled back when he tried to embrace her. “We should probably go,” she said wanly. 

 

Chris sighed. “You’re right. But Sheva…”

 

“I know,” she said quickly. “This meant something to me, too.”

 

“Good,” Chris said, relieved. 

 

In quiet contemplation, Sheva checked his bandage and then both of them dressed with professional efficiency. 

 

“Ok, partner,  I want a hot shower in a 5-star hotel, with room service, and you all to myself for a least 24 hours,” Sheva said, checking her clip and pushing it back into the Beretta. “And I’m ready to put down anything that stands in my way.”

 

“Roger that,” Chris agreed eagerly. “Come on. We have a room to book.”

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
